


Trust a Few

by addie_cakes



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, wtt 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 14:29:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18470845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addie_cakes/pseuds/addie_cakes
Summary: After another pause, an uncomfortable lull in an uncomfortable conversation, Bradie asked in a small, contemplative voice, “Do you think you two are endgame?”Maybe the question was meant to be philosophical, a chance to probe Nathan to see if he could yet speak to the strength of his and Shoma’s relationship. Maybe this was the beginning of something incredible, long-term and lasting, cinematic in quality, complete with flashing images and too-bright lights and too-bright smiles. Maybe what he and Shoma had, fledging in its newness now, was the kind of something forever was made of—“This isn’t an episode of Riverdale,” Zach said seriously, and Nathan’s half-idyllic smile, prompted by the young womans' question, dropped as quickly as it had formed.





	Trust a Few

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this prompt from my tumblr—"Team USA finding shoma/Nathan together and teasing them about it"
> 
> Title—All's Well That Ends Well, 1.1.61

 

 

“So you two are a thing?” 

“Do you love him?”

“Did you ask him out, or did he ask you?”

Although Nathan would’ve loved to have been able to sink into the floor and disappear, away from his teammates’ eager and expectant faces, he was unfortunately quite material and too solid and not at all transparent, and he was forced to remain in his seat as he endured another semi-innocent-but-pressing barrage of questions. Although he was supposed to be enjoying a delicious lunch, and he knew that the food in front of him _was_ delicious, he had since lost his appetite and only pretended to need a drink from his water bottle so that he had time to think of another cagey response.

“Um—” was his answer.

“Do you think he loves you?” Bradie asked, her arms folded onto the table as she leaned forward, voice low as if she were discussing top-secret intel or rather some junior high students’ crushes. “Or are you not there yet? Do you think you’ll get there?”

“Um—” He wasn’t that uncomfortable with the current conversation, not really, since he knew that they all meant well, though Nathan still would have preferred to avoid this topic altogether. On a normal basis, he wasn’t the most likely person to discuss his personal life with the public in any capacity, and although he knew and liked most of his teammates well enough to trust them with important information, he was still unsure of how to go into full detail without jeopardizing his or anyone else’s privacy.

To be fair, though, he couldn’t exactly deny the fact that he and Shoma were an established couple. Not after what they had seen.

* * *

  _After their interviews for the day, Nathan and Shoma agreed to find somewhere quiet, an empty and supposedly unused recreation room, to have a moment to themselves. Almost immediately upon entering, Nathan ran a hand through his hair in an effort to look—sexy? cute? definitely attractive—but his ever-unruly curls, a little on the long side, caught in his fingers, and the young man winced as he yanked them through to free his hand. Thankfully enough, though, Shoma found the movement pleasant enough, or at least funny, and he first made sure that Nathan was alright (he was, just a little frustrated) and then wasted no time in leaning up to kiss the younger man, smiling into the motion as Nathan made a noise of surprise, momentarily taken aback._

_Recovering quickly, Nathan allowed his hands to rest against either side of Shoma’s waist, slowly maneuvering him backward so that Shoma’s back was resting against the wall. As Shoma reached up to cup Nathan’s cheek, he gently tugged Nathan closer so that the space between them was even smaller, the two of them pausing to look each other in the eye._

_Nathan pulled away for a moment, already a little breathless, already feeling a little fidgety, on the cusp of overexcited and nervous. “I love that new costume on you—” he breathed, glancing down again, first at Shoma’s eyes—dark and shining and alight with amusement—and then at his lips—pink and chapped and inviting._

_The statement was obvious enough; Nathan hadn’t been able to look away during warmups. Shoma’s figure had been, in a word, heavenly, his shoulders broad and his waist slim, and every movement he made, direct and deliberate and punctuated, had sent Nathan’s mind in a million different directions._

_He wasn’t sure he had to say this now, when they weren’t even talking about costumes, or when Shoma didn’t need that kind of validation, but the other man didn’t seem put-off by the comment, just perplexed._

_“The free was the same—"_

_"The short—"_

_"Oh—yeah?” Shoma smiled back. Shoma kissed the younger man again, a quick peck this time, and then began to unzip Nathan’s team jacket, his hands steady as he easily slipped the zipper down. With a knowing nod, Nathan shrugged the jacket off his shoulders, and then hurried to do the same to Shoma’s. His own fingers shook slightly as he worked the zipper, frowning slightly as it caught on a fold on the fabric._

_“One second—” Nathan muttered to himself, cursing under his breath as he attempted the movement again, and he nearly (regretfully) cheered when the zipper finally did give. “Okay, I got it—”_

_Shoma nodded encouragingly, biting back a laugh. When the sleeve of his jacket caught on his arm in his first attempt at discarding the clothing, the older man did laugh at the irony then. It was a light sound, endearing,_ _remarkably_ _endearing, and Nathan could have professed his undying love for Shoma right then and there, not even look back, and be happy for the rest of his life._

 _Instead, he settled for a quiet, “I really like you,_ so much _.” If he could read his own expression, he might have been able to see just how earnest he was in this moment, just how much he meant what he had said. It was different, though, what he felt for Shoma; it wasn’t just a “like-like” sort of thing, the kind of feeling young people had when they didn’t have enough time on their hands and were around the same people for a long enough time—it was deeper and more genuine._

_And Shoma’s small, thoughtful nod in response, and the shy smile that curled upward as he looked down and then back up, might have been indicative of the same kind of feeling._

_That he really liked Nathan, and then some._

_As Shoma rested his hands against Nathan’s stomach, lifting Nathan’s shirt in the process of exposing the toned skin to the air, however, the door opened unceremoniously, and the first sound the two heard was a ridiculously loud squeak, the sound a mixture of surprise and delight. Nathan’s back was turned away from the door, and he didn’t see Madi (along with the majority of the rest of Team USA behind her), standing in the doorframe, her hands covering her mouth as she realized how loud she had been. She looked apologetic, if not shell-shocked, and kept her hand on the door as if frozen in place._

_Unlike Nathan, Shoma_ could  _see everyone, and his eyes widened after a moment. While not necessarily upset, he still seemed entirely uncomfortable, and before anyone thought to say anything, Shoma moved, ducking out from under Nathan’s arms, an impressive feat considering how quickly he did it, and grabbed one of the jackets, hurrying out of the room. Turning just as Shoma mumbled a rushed_ goodbye _as he squeezed past Bradie and Timothy, Nathan opened his mouth to say something to call after Shoma, deciding against it once the shorter man was already halfway down the hallway, not running but certainly speed-walking._

_He really could have disowned all of his teammates right then and there, wouldn’t have even questioned the ethics of doing such a thing, but he instead decided to hurry after Shoma, more focused on making sure the other man wasn’t completely freaked out before even thinking to deal with his so-called team._

* * *

 Thankfully, Shoma had only been embarrassed and not actually hurt or angry or, worse, ashamed, but he still warily looked around before he pressed a small kiss to Nathan’s cheek.

“I’m still sorry,” Nathan said, even as Shoma smiled warmly and shook his head as if to dissuade the apology. “No, I mean it—my team is nosy, and yours is so nice.” That was true—Shoma himself could endure ribbing from Keiji every now and again, but that was because they were like family at this point, and really, Keiji was still more polite than most people. Besides his and Shoma's amicable and mutual teasings, everyone else on Team Japan seemed so thoughtful toward each other, careful of their other members' feelings, considerate, even.

But Shoma leveled him a look, a long-suffering one that spoke volumes. One word, “Yuzu,” was enough to remind Nathan that Shoma knew exactly what it was like to have this kind of dilemma.

Yuzuru was at least genuine about everything, though. He pried because he cared so much about Shoma, because he was the first person willing to fight, perhaps even physically, anyone who gave Shoma a hard time, excepting himself and Keiji and Kanako and Nobu, of course. In contrast, Nathan wasn’t yet convinced that all of his teammates had the same level of commitment to defend Nathan as Shoma's seniors did.

“We have lunch,” Shoma said suddenly to change the conversation, which meant that Shoma had lunch with his teammates, those wonderful people, and Nathan, meanwhile, had lunch with people who were too nosy and not all thoughtful and sometimes had too much energy.

“I wanna switch teams,” Nathan muttered, dropping his head so that it rested against Shoma’s forehead. The gesture, while meant to be a little humorous because of the younger man's dramatics, was more than intimate, and Shoma didn’t move away, instead lifting his chin a bit so that he could better face Nathan.

“I’ll ask for you,” the shorter man answered quietly, slowly, and he reached over so that he could grab Nathan’s hand, rubbing his thumb in small circles along the back of the other man’s hand, the gesture comforting, so Shoma-like in its nature—quiet and unassuming but powerful, grounding.

“No promises?”

Shaking his head, Shoma said, apologetically, “No promises.”

Nathan had been in a better mood, then, because he knew that he and Shoma were okay, right until he sat down at his group’s lunch table and soon realized the pairs of eyes, searching and too eager, resting on him. The young man frowned and seriously considered running away before Zach grabbed his arm and all but lowered Nathan to sit down beside him.

* * *

  _“Do you think he loves you?”_

_“Um—”_

Yeah, so maybe Shoma did. And maybe Nathan loved Shoma, and all of that was probably the easiest thing in Nathan’s life, the most understandable, at least, but he didn’t know that he could just go ahead and say it. Maybe his relationship with Shoma was such that it worked because they were quiet about it. Maybe, the second they exposed it to the universe was the second it fell apart.

Ashley waved her fork in front of Nathan. “No, do you _love_ him?” She accentuated “love,” drawing it out with a long sound, and grinned when Nathan cracked a small smile at the eccentricity of the comment. “Because he’s been looking at our table for the last ten minutes.” She gestured behind the young man, and he turned, gaze softening as he noticed Shoma watching him from the comfort of his own table. The other man seemed to be focused more on Nathan than on drinking from his water bottle, and when he noticed Nathan's looking he started and spilled some of his drink onto his shirt.

Nathan smiled lightly, didn’t even laugh, as Shoma made a noise of surprise. Instinctively, Shoma grabbed for the jacket that he had balled up beside him, presumably to use to dab his shirt. When he picked it up, however, the young man frowned, brows furrowed as he held up the jacket. Considering Shoma's confused expression, something was unfamiliar. And upon closer examination, Nathan himself realized that Shoma’s jacket was dark blue with red sleeves, and he was pretty sure—

“You have Shoma’s, by the way,” Timothy said nonchalantly, breaking Nathan away from his own thoughts, as Zach held up a different jacket in silent offering to Shoma.

Sure enough, Zach was holding a white jacket that had black fabric on the shoulders, clearly Shoma's, and Nathan nearly smacked his forehead. It wasn’t necessarily his fault—Shoma had been the one who hurried out of the room with the wrong jacket, but Nathan hadn’t noticed until now, either, and he could have avoided Timothy and Zach's amused smiles had he been quicker to the draw.

When Shoma put his head down against the table in a moment of realization, Madi smacked Zach’s shoulder, ignoring his noise of protest.

“You’re giving that back to him.” She sounded more like a stern mother in that particular moment than she did a co-conspirator in Nathan’s public trial, a fact to which the young man attributed to Madison’s remarkable fondness for Shoma. She absolutely adored the other man, and as much as she seemed to take no offense to making Nathan miserable, she apparently drew the line at bothering Shoma, and she made it quite clear to Zachary, who shrank under her unrelenting stare.

“I know, I know, I’m already on my way—”

By the time Zach returned with Nathan’s own jacket after he had stopped to apologize, Shoma’s face was bright red and he was now pointedly ignoring questions from Kaori and Keiji, who were about as bad with their questioning Shoma as Nathan's teammates were about teasing him. Neither were entirely sure how to field questions about love or relationships—this was new to them, and if even they couldn't describe it very well to themselves, they couldn't really be expected to do the same for others. 

Perhaps the only constancy was that they both had friends that _would_ ask relentless questions about their relationship.

“Do you know if Shoma can climb trees?” Madi asked.

Hesitating, because he didn’t know why she was asking (Shoma was short, sure, but Nathan wasn’t really much taller and certainly couldn’t be categorized as a “tree,” though he was almost certain that he appreciated the compliment, if this were the case), Nathan shrugged. “I don’t think so?”

“Then how can you guys be ‘k-i-s-s-i-n-g’?” She accentuated the last part in a singsong way, and as she spelled the word, Bradie bobbed her head along in the same rhythm, while Timothy put his arm around Nathan to keep him seated. In response, Nathan could only groan.

After another pause, an uncomfortable (from Nathan’s perspective, at least) lull in the conversation, Bradie asked, in a small, contemplative voice, “Do you think you two are endgame?”

Maybe the question was meant to be philosophical, a chance to probe Nathan to see if he could yet speak to the strength of his and Shoma’s relationship. Maybe this was the beginning of something incredible, long-term and lasting, cinematic in quality, complete with flashing images and too-bright lights and too-bright smiles. Maybe what he and Shoma had, fledging in its newness now, was the kind of _something_ forever was made of—

“This isn’t an episode of _Riverdale_ ,” Zach said seriously, and Nathan’s half-idyllic smile, prompted by Bradie’s question, dropped as quickly as it had formed.

“…I definitely want a new team,” he muttered to himself.

Ashley gave him an unsympathetic pat with her fork. “You’re stuck with the ones you’ve got, and we’re your wingmen now. Get used to it.”

The young man gave her a confused look. He knew what she had meant, that she and the others were available to help him impress Shoma, to woo him, essentially, but the sentiment seemed a little unnecessary. “You don’t really need a wingman if you’re already dating someone,” he said, not even realizing the depth or the implications of his statement until he had already said it, until it was already too far out into the universe to pull back.

Everyone was quiet for a few moments, and Nathan silently hoped that the words had gone over their heads, but then Zach patted his back firmly, like a strange, fatherly sort of congratulations. Bradie put her hands together so that she didn’t actively cheer, though she was clearly beaming, and Timothy and Ashley shot each other knowing looks as Timothy mouthed something that read suspiciously like “told you so.”

In an effort to seem impartial and professional, Madison simply nodded, even as Nathan sank lower into his chair, the tips of his ears burning pink. “Thank you for sharing that with us, and, well, we just want you to know that we love and support you.”

“And?” he grumbled, not even bothering to meet her gaze.

“And we’re contractually obligated to give you a bit of grief over this while being the first to tell you how happy we are for you.”

 _And so it begins_ , Nathan thought to himself, both annoyed and a little mortified, as he couldn’t actually say that he was happy that his teammates were already so interested in his love life. But on the other hand, he thought it was nice, really nice, that he had many people surrounding him who had already responded so positively to his and Shoma’s relationship. With as stressful and fast-paced as this career could be, Nathan was grateful that he had people on his team who supported him, even if they were already _this_ close to driving him crazy. He couldn’t speak on Shoma's behalf, but a part of him figured that the other man felt the same.

Considering the loud, surprised shriek that Kaori made when Shoma muttered something to her, presumably something about the nature of his and Nathan's relationship, followed by the young woman's rapidly turning her head to look between Shoma and Nathan, her mouth dropped open in delighted shock, Nathan figured that he knew one thing—

He and Shoma might have been bad at keeping secrets, but at least the people who knew about their relationship seemed to be just as invested in this relationship as they were.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just something fun and short to do to let me write and enjoy writing, of course it's just a work of fiction, it should be unlocked now (bc I'm bad with technology, we don't know) but I'll be locking after like, a day? 
> 
> Thoughts I had while writing this, in no particular order:  
> 1\. Jason brown should've been sent to WTT  
> 2\. wow, i can't believe Team USA won by just sending bradie for ladies  
> 3\. Kaori sakamoto deserves the world but the world doesn't deserve Kaori sakamoto  
> 4\. bradie and zach give off opposing but intersecting "would religiously watch riverdale" vibes
> 
> Feel free to find me on Twitter @addie_cakes_ and tumblr @addie-cakes or my other tumblr @figure-skating-prompts (I haven't posted there in like a decade)


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